Beautiful Disaster
by Sarah Wayne
Summary: Riza's thoughts on her romance with Roy and all they've been through together Much fluff T for safety


Royai obsessive am I! I love this couple. I was watching the FMA Chibi OVA and it was sooo adorable. Anyway, here is yet another Royai songfic, please enjoy. LONG LIVE ROYAI!

**_Disclaimer: FMA is not mine, neither is Roy Mustang (nooo) or Riza Hawkeye. The song Beautiful Disaster belongs to the lovely Kelly Clarkson and her record company. _**

"Beautiful Disaster" 

'_He drowns in his dreams an exquisite extreme I know he's as dumb as he seems and more heaven than a heart could hold and if I try to save him my whole world could cave in it just ain't right it just ain't right…'_

I'd always thought of my job in the military as just a family perk. My grandfather was a General, my father; an alchemist. I never wanted to kill and I hated war. But when I came to really know Roy Mustang, that all changed. Now, I pull the trigger, as many times as I have to, to make sure he's alive. I keep him in line to help him fulfill his dream. But, sometimes I wonder, if that's the real reason I protect him. I need to, in a sense, because of these, feelings. But even if I wanted to save him from himself, my emotions wouldn't be able to handle it. I've never loved someone before, and falling in love with a superior officer is against protocol. Roy Mustang carries too much emotional baggage for just any normal woman. (Sometimes I like to think that I'm not normal.)

'_His magical myth as strong as with I believe a tragedy with more damage than a soul should see and do I try to change him so hard not to blame him hold on tight hold on tight…'_

Every girl I've met or passed dreams of dating Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist. He's charming, chivalrous, and handsome. But that's only what he let's them see. Roy is a wreck. His soul is weighed down by past events that he won't let die, and they leave half healed scars that refuse to stop bleeding, because he rips them open with every mistake he makes. He drinks. A lot, and it scares me. But I can't change what he does or who he is because if I did, he'd never be able to walk on his own and he's come too far to fall now. Yes, he upsets me and I would love to pump some bullets into his brain, but it's his only way to try and ease the pain that I cannot heal. (I can't get close, because he won't let me.)

'_I'm longing for love and the logical but he's only happy hysterical I'm waiting for some kind of miracle waited so long so long…'_

I promised to stay away from any emotional attachment to Roy other than mental support. I couldn't keep that promise. Watching him, drunk, crying and laughing at the same time, falling apart, and never looking so broken and so handsome ever before. I prayed for him to just stop or fall unconscious. But he didn't. I went to him, gently pulling his scotch glass away and wiping his eyes. (My hands were shaking.)

'_He's soft to the touch but afraid at the end he breaks he's never enough and still leaves more than I can take…'_

We lay together, in his bed, tired and utterly spent. I ran circles with my finger along his smooth, muscled chest. I listened to his heartbeat and I couldn't help but let a few tears fall. He was holding back, because he knew that what we wanted wasn't allowed. But even what he gave, was more wonderful and beautiful than I could handle. His skin was soft, gently scarred, and darker compared to mine. He was asleep and held me in an iron grip. I could just stay like that forever. (I really loved him, and he really loved me.)

'_Oh cuz I don't know I don't know what he's after but he's so beautiful such a beautiful disaster and if I could hold on through the tears and the laughter would it be beautiful? Or just a beautiful disaster…'_

It was hard to tell whether he longed after becoming Fuhrer to change the military or pursue making all female personnel wear mini-skirts. He was so emotionally screwed that following his ideals seemed ludicrous, but my love and my determination for change was my drive. I'd come so far with him. Through tears, laughter, war, death, and so much more. We were practically connected at the hip. It was all just a beautiful, wonderful, glorious mess. That was our life, together, through everything, we had each other. People who were just destined to fall, but then we'd just pick ourselves up and keep going.

'_He's beautiful such a beautiful disaster.'_

_**Owari**_


End file.
